Out of Routine
by estonimochi
Summary: USUK short story. Alfred meets Arthur, an outspoken man at a bar.


It felt like there was a full moon, but Alfred could not be sure. He had spent most of the day at this club in downtown New York, smoking and thinking. Alfred had forgotten what he was thinking about earlier, but now he was trying to figure out if tonight was a full moon without actually going out to see for himself. He was not sure why – maybe side effects from the cigarettes – but he had been thinking about this for the last half hour. He glanced at his phone. 10:23pm and six missed calls from his sister. He sighed. Around him, brightly colored lights flashed and pop music blared from randomly placed speakers. People drank and danced with others, laughing and shouting. Alfred took a sip from his drink and looked on, amused. This place was a neon hell. Chaotic, dirty, indecent. That's what made it so great. People could be whatever they wanted and not be judged. Alfred could just think about anything he wanted, even if it's as pointless as a full moon. No rules, no limits. It was his favorite place in the whole world.

A girl slid into his booth. She was dressed in all black, yet had almost nothing on. She smiled a devil's smile. "Mind if I sit here?"

Alfred shrugged. "Sure." He put a new cigarette between his teeth and lit it. Across from him, the girl made a face. He rolled the cigarette between his forefinger and thumb and blew out the excess smoke, gazing out over the crowd around him. His eyes wandered over to the bar and saw a man staring back at him. Their eyes met; Alfred thought the man was faintly smiling at him.

He blinked and turned back to the girl. She flipped her hair and grinned slyly. "Aren't you going to buy me a drink?" She scooted around the table and placed a hand on Alfred's thigh.

Alfred knew what she was trying to do, yet he did not care. "That depends on the cost and how thirsty you are," he said. He could still feel the man at the bar staring holes into him.

The girl pouted playfully. "Don't be cheap. When a lady asks for something, you should give it to her."

Alfred tried to pretend that he couldn't feel her hand creeping up his thigh. "But you didn't ask. Not really."

She frowned. "Hm, I guess not. Can I have one of those?" She pointed at Alfred's box of cigarettes.

"I assumed you didn't smoke?"

She laughed. "What made you think that?" Her hand was inside his shirt now, pressed against his abdomen.

Alfred shrugged again. "No reason." He pulled out a cigarette and held it to her.

The girl paused. Alfred guessed she thought she had won too easily. "You know what, I'm not in the mood for a smoke. Want to dance?" She batted her fake eyelashes and flashed her teeth.

"Nah." Alfred stuffed the cigarette back in it's case and took a long drag from his. He glanced back at the man. He was still looking at him. Alfred felt uneasy. Was he in some kind of trouble? He felt a slight tug on his arm.

"What are you looking at?" The girl questioned.

"No one – nothing," Alfred said, not really paying attention.

The girl looked at him for a moment. "Did you come here with someone?"

"What? Uh, no."

"Then why do you keep looking into the distance like that?" Her hand was slowly tracing his stomach muscle lines.

_Why are you so nosy?_ Alfred adjusted his position. "I'm just that way, I guess. People often call me mysterious. Some just call me depressed. I don't know." He tried to see if the man was still looking at him, but a group of people blocked his view. He sighed in frustration.

"You know what I would call you?" The girl purred, leaning into him.

Alfred looked down at her, somewhat disgusted. "What?"

She sat up and her hand fell away. "What do you say–?"

"No thanks."

She blinked. "What?"

"I know what you're going to ask, and no, I don't want to. I'm not interested."

"You don't know what I was going to ask."

Alfred laughed. "Yeah, I do. And I'm saying no."

She stuttered. "What the hell?"

Alfred inhaled his cigarette and said nothing.

She stood up. "I'm leaving."

"Hm. I can see that."

The girl stayed there for a moment. "Aren't you going to try and stop me?"

Alfred looked up at her and smiled politely. "Why would I try and stop you? You obviously want to go. This isn't a soap opera."

The girl's face grew red. She edged her way out of the booth and flung herself into the crowd. As soon as she was gone, Alfred downed his drink in one gulp and propped his head on his hand. He wanted another drink.

As if God himself heard Alfred's wish, a glass of clear alcohol slammed down on his table. "Are you straight?"

Alfred looked up, startled. "Excuse me?"

The man from the bar stood over him, his thin lip upturned in a slight smile. He had messy blonde hair, bright green eyes, and was wearing a casual button-down shirt. "Are you straight," he repeated in a thick British accent.

"No, I'm not, but I don't see how that's any of your business."

The man sat down across from him, still smiling. "Ah, I thought as much. No straight man has ever turned down Suzie Creamcheese."

_To be continued_


End file.
